


How To Date A Demon

by Illyrianwitchling



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Demon AU, Demon Deals, F/M, Fake Dating, Folktober, More tags to be added, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV First Person, POV Jude Duarte, Vivi is getting married, What else is new?, ish?, jude gets drunk, jude needs a date, locke is an ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illyrianwitchling/pseuds/Illyrianwitchling
Summary: When Jude finds out Taryn is brining Locke also known as Jude's ex, to their sister's wedding. She struggles to handle. That is until Vi offers her a liquid courage and an amusing opportunity that leads her to calling a demon. One far too charming, too mouthy, and too good looking for his own good..
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	How To Date A Demon

I remain silent, staring into the crackling fires before me. Watching how they dance with such fluid rage readying to burn any object that crosses their path. The colors briefly remind me of the fall leaves scattered around my apartment. And yet, they are stuck. Contained on the wood above the sands. I can relate to this fire and the urge of burning rage. After what Vi had just told me, I too want it. To burn the world. Perhaps not the world, only one person. Though if I am honest with myself, two. Vi was right on this. It is her wedding to make the call, not mine, despite the anger and dread. Taryn, my twin, would cause more drama if her boyfriend wasn’t there.

Regardless of the fact he was my ex. That’s something known to everyone by now. Given I had caught him in her bed two months ago. The act of betrayal hurt harder than I cared to admit. I’ll admit most of the sting is from my sister. Who had been through every moment of my life. She threw it away for him. I haven’t spoken to either since that day. Hardly thought of them too. Until now. I must choose to attend my sister Vi’s wedding or not. I would hate to miss it. Vi and Heather did nothing wrong to warrant my absence. The thought of seeing Taryn and Locke together makes my stomach curl further inside my body. As if it is the burning dance before and the crashing waves mere feet from me.

My hands dig into the sand underneath me. Feeling the grains slip in between my fingers. All bruised and calloused from the long nights at the gym. The coarse pieces pass through quickly. Like the way my heart speeds at that moment. I shouldn’t let this beat me. I am better than this. Better than them. The thought will not leave me. It eats away at me as if it were a poison draining me of everything. I want them to pay in the worst way. Usually, I’m good at vengeance, of making people pay. I learned when my heart is shattered. Revenge does not come so easily when the person your boyfriend cheats on you with is your sister.

“Hey,” Vi speaks in a caring tone. 

I want to say I’m not delicate, I’m just angry like this fire fighting against the winds of an autumn breeze. I refuse to meet her endearing gaze. Opting to watch Heather dance with Liliver and Van. Then shift over to the squeal down by the ocean where Roiben tosses Kaye into the frigid waters with ease. All of them happy and living in the moment. Then there’s me. Too hurt and angry to care.

“Here,” she tries again. Nudging a bottle of whiskey to my elbow, “Drink.”

I glance over my shoulder, down to the outstretched bottle. Watching the faint glow of firelight reflecting on the amber glass. Taking it from Vi’s grasp, I bring it to my lips. Allowing the familiar burn of fire whisky as I drink and drink. Not a mere sip, I drink as if I’m parched from work on a warm summer’s day. Acting as a concerned older sister, Vi pulled my arm away, taking the bottle with her.

“You offered,” my words are dry and dull.

“I didn’t say, Hey Jude, consume this entire bottle in one go.”

“You said drink. I did. You didn’t exactly say not too.”

“Fair, "She laughs, securing the bottle into the beach. Twisting it back and forth until it wouldn’t fall over. I return to watching the fires and their glowing embers of dance. Vi tucks her arm into mine. Resting her head against my shoulder. Her gaze follows mine watching the bonfire with me.

"You know I had no choice, right? Tare is the drama sister, "I feel her breath on my arm as she snorts, "Clearly,” she releases a breath before continuing, “But, I love you both and want you both to be there. The best way was to accept her plus one. You, I know, will take the high road and not start a fight. Taryn, however…”

“You don’t have to explain. I understand,” the rush of liquor begins to invade, and I feel more relaxed than I was moments ago, “If he speaks a word to me, I might have to take him outside and beat him in the most unruly of ways.”

Vi laughs again, picking up a bottle and taking a small swig before handing it to me once more. I shake my head, but she pushes it into my palm. “Just don’t drink like you’re dying of thirst, "she teases—this time, I don’t. I take small sips, savoring the cinnamon taste as it goes down the smooth burn encasing my throat.

"As long as it’s not done in the reception hall, beat the bastard however you wish,” her smile faltering for a moment, “Speaking of the reception hall, I talked to Heather, and we wanted to let you know that after the ceremony you may leave if you’d like to. I fucking hated making this choice just so you know.”

“It’s your wedding. You didn’t have to,” I add, bringing the bottle to my lips once more.

“I know… you know me..” she trails off; I watch her eyes fall onto her fiancée —a beer in hand dancing as free as the breeze.

Yes, I do know her. Vivi always finds the balance. Even with her wedding, she is a selfless woman. Could have easily told myself and Taryn to not come. Told Taryn Locke wasn’t allowed, and if her dear twin sister had a problem with it, she couldn’t come. It was Vi and Heather’s day. What they say would go. I should’ve known that Vi, even on her wedding day, would try and appease everyone. Damn her selflessness. I look at her. Vivi, who had always been there for me. Stood up for me before I could and even then never hesitated in assistance. She is the kind of person that if you needed to bury a body, she would ask where. Meeting you with a shovel in tow.

I take another long sip before I start up again, “I’m going to stay, "I hate the words as I speak them. I don’t want a chance to talk to Locke or Taryn. This isn’t what Vi and Heather deserve. I should be there for her. For everything she’s done for me. From taking care of me when I was ill, and our parents worked to sneaking my alcohol and getting my first tattoo. A watercolor design of Alice in Wonderland. My favorite film as a child. I smile faintly as the memory plays in my head. Alice on the tv while I happily ate fish sticks and french fries, coating everything in ketchup to a point I could only taste an absurd amount of tomatoes. Vi’s laughter breaks the vivid memory as it turns dense and muddled in my mind. 

"You know you could do a woman’s revenge.” she chuckles. I look over at her incredulously. Suggesting poison was a harsh thing for her to conjure, “Show up with someone hotter.”

Oh. _OH_

The thought of a tactic so petty hadn’t crossed my mind. No, I only went to disturbing ideas of throwing a fist into that stupid smirk of his. Relentlessly striking him until said, smirk would be no more. Quite possibly wrapping my hands around his neck, glaring down at him as the light leaves his eyes. Perhaps there’s something wrong with me. I feel Vi snatch the whiskey from my grasp, pointing it in my direction like a nod, then another sip. A way that said you know I’m right.

“Think of it, Jude. What does Locke hate?”

Me, I say glumly to my inner self, resting a palm to my chin. Relishing in the moment with my sister, who would be married in one month. There is a loud splash down by the water as if one of them fell. It appears Heather and Kaye shoved Roiben into the water. Soon after that, I feel my body sway with the winds. The alcohol I’ve been consuming in this conversation flows free like a strong current. It’s hitting me sooner than I’d care to, but I find myself for once not giving a damn. Taking the bottle back and downing myself in more amber liquid.

“Not being the center of attention. Honestly, Locke’s probably anticipating you and Tar to fight. Which you won’t, "I hear the sharpness in her tone. Knowing Vi, it is her way of instilling a warning. Even though she trusts me to not start anything. She knows I will not hesitate to finish. "Bring someone hot on your arm. The look on his face would be priceless.”

“Didn’t you say no drama?” the words tumble out of me in a slur. I’m shocked when she understands. “You just said.”

“Yes, I’m aware. If Taryn is Taryn about this. She will stop it because she wouldn’t risk the embarrassment,” she says.

A point well made. Locke and Taryn both enjoy being the center of attention. Taryn wouldn’t risk drama at her expense. Not in this way, at least. She would cause a fuss if Locke wasn’t there. Making loud passive-aggressive comments about her, I swallow thickly before I can think the words, boyfriend and not being in attendance. Vi knows the terms would hone in on me. Like I am a rabid beast, and I would attack back. With Locke there, Taryn would be too swept up in him to start anything with me. Still, the prospect of finding someone attractive in under four weeks that I could tolerate seemed a challenge of itself. One, I didn’t feel like accepting. Though the liquor invading my head would say otherwise. I shake away the idea of feeling the world move with me when I did.

Next to me, Vi starts laughing somberly, as if she had recalled a memory, “Hey. Remember when we almost summoned a demon?” It appears my guess, as always, was spot on, “Because Madoc pissed me off?”

Madoc, Vivi’s biological father. She never calls him as such—only his first name. When our mother and Madoc divorced, it wasn’t pretty from what we learned. Mom knew marrying him meant being married to the military. She loved him and was willing to relocate a thousand times over him. Before my sister was born, he seemed to forget his marriage with her altogether. Finding himself with other women in various locations, he was stationed in. When mom found out, she filed for separation, taking everything she could from the bastard. It wasn’t long before she and Vivi moved across the states to Maine. Shortly after moving here, our mom met my father, and the rest is history.

Until Madoc showed up at Vi’s twelfth birthday party. By then, my sister had a well-developed idea of feelings towards her father. Our neighbor kept us overnight as Mom, Dad, and Madoc argued through the evening. By the morning, it was decided that Vi had to spend a week with her father once a month until she was eighteen. It was a week my half-sister despised and dreaded until Heather. 

Vivienne met Heather, and When she introduced her asshole father to her girlfriend. It didn’t go over well with his narrowed ways of thinking. To this day, I don’t understand why his opinion mattered to her. Regardless it was the final nail in Vi’s relationship with her father. 

I remember that night clearly. Sneaking in liquors from our parent’s cabinets, discussing ways to get rid of her asshole donor father. Mine were more permanent than she’d allow. Though I think it was out of not seeing me in jail, than ending him. Later we laid in her bed together aimlessly watching a show with paranormal investigators and talking about ways of summoning other beings. When Vi jumped so quickly, as someone pinched her. Then she suggested the very thing happening on her television. We laughed for a long time. Until Vi grabbed her laptop, researching how to summon demons. I played along, not thinking much about it. 

We had played with Ouija boards before with little to no results. What’s the harm in some silly spell found on the internet? We shuffled around her bed. Painting a red pentagram on the floor, lighting candles around it while chanting in Latin. Nothing happened for several moments until the room grew cold. So cold we could see our breaths, Lights flickered, and it seemed shadows emerged from the floor. The shadowed person began to take form. I still recall an icy touch ghosting my forearm, then black eyes locking onto mine. I felt connected to this…thing. Until mom knocked. Hastily we worked to cover the markings and blow out the candles. Several moments later, she opened the door. To this day, I can still picture eyes dark as coal staring at me in the darkness.

“We could try it again? We’re drunk enough to consider it an option.” she giggles. Clumsily laying her head against my shoulder. Proving her point

I slide a firm glance down to her, “Not a chance Vi," another long sip,” We’re not summoning a demon as my date.“

"Oh, come onnnn. And besides, it’s not a we’re. It’s a you.” I watch Vi draw circles in the air with a finger till she pushes it into my skin, “And” she shouts, “it doesn’t have to be a demon. You could summon a fae, a demon, or whatever. A fucking werewolf.”

“It’s a no.” I look at her incredulously, standing and closing my eyes in the process of regaining composure. 

A pathetic attempt, if I am to be honest. When I open them, the world seems to be moving faster than seconds before. I clutch the bottle like it will steady my vision though sober me knows how fucking ridiculous and idea it is. All the liquor I’ve been consuming seems to crash down on me as I try and fail to keep a steady balance. My feet stumbling in the sands, for once, I was grateful to not have shoes on. Vi falls off the log still laughing about me, demons. I struggle to walk away. Fighting with the unforgiving grains beneath me. I needed a restroom and to sober up before my sister came up with another antic and one I might listen to.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom. Then to sleep in my car,” I call back loud enough for her and three by the shore to hear.

I hear them all shout, be safe as I struggle to the trees behind us. The cool breeze in the air caused the leaves to brustle, making them look more dark and ominous. At the moment, it feels as though it’s not a small wooded area. But a forest that extends for miles and miles beyond. I am not overly fond of this. It is wet myself and mocked at or this. The small sober part of me says it isn’t that far. The alcohol-laced part wants to drink and sit awhile, here against tree bark. I take from both voices. Drinking from the bottle as I step into the darkened woods. Nothing but the faint glow of moonlight, my phone, whiskey, and the crunching of leaves beneath my bare feet.

Summoning a demon as a date. I scoff loudly in the darkness—the absurdity of it all. 

Still, I can’t resist the mockery of it and shout, “Hey demons. Anyone wanna go to a wedding, "I down the remaining contents of whiskey, "Make a deal? Piss off my ex, my sister? Wine? Food? Whatever you want, demon. I summon thee,” My voice boisterous as ever echoes in the still forest. I walk as fast as my sloppy movements will allow. Slipping on large trunks from trees and stepping on small twigs and branches. An odd feeling washes over me as if I am suddenly being watched. Ever since that night, the darkness has been soothing and yet eerie. Like something or someone beckoned me towards it. Being watched by unseen eyes strikes my nerves in an anxious way.

Finding a clearing. I do my best to peer in between the trees and bushes. Looking ahead, then leftover my shoulder and finally right. Knowing I’m alone but the sounds of nature to keep me company. I flicked open the button of my jeans, doing what I set out to do. When I stand pulling my underwear and jeans up over my hip, there’s a faint rustle in the dead leaves. I pick up the now empty bottle gripping the neck tightly. Readying to swing at whatever creature is coming. I hear nothing heavy, no snarls, no animal noises. Just the rustling as it gets louder and louder in my direction. I back up against an old tree, the tough aged bark pushing into my top. And then I feel it. Cold and slithery over my feet.

Moonlight from high above the trees beams down on black scales, causing them to shimmer like obsidian. The snake winds its head upwards, staring at me. Staring down at it, I swear to whatever God the fucking thing was grinning up in my direction. I took an elective of zoology in high school. All the things it told me of reptiles, snakes couldn’t grin or smile. This one. I know it did.

I kick the serpent off my feet as hard as I can. Playing soccer and softball in school is pretty damn hard. My whiskey stabled balance takes over, and I plummet to the ground. Leaves and branches barely break my fall.

At that moment I hear a pop then a male voice. Cool as winter, as alluring as a lullaby, “You have some nerve mortal. Don’t you know it’s rude to kick someone at the first meeting? Or should I say second?” The last question this voice let out in a tease. I’ve never heard this voice. 

My gaze tries to focus on the sound’s source and the snapping of more twigs indicating footsteps across the way, coming towards me. My breaths come out harsh and rapid. Quickly I scamper to the bottle, thankfully still intact.

“Are you going to hit me with that?” the voice muses. 

I could practically hear him angling his head curiously as if he’s studying me. Like I’m a fascination. Something of great interest to behold. A shame for him, I am no one interesting. I’m only Jude. A gym rat who hides away in her condo and goes to college.

“I would if you showed yourself,” I still have the liquor pumping in me, making things hazy. I fight it off, readying to fight whoever this was.

As if I commanded him myself, he steps forward between the two trees. My breath hitches, taking in the sight of him. The bare sight of him, I might add. Thick curls coiled and kempt, styled correctly, and set up except for one curl. That seemed to do as it pleased. His skin is as ivory as the moon itself. He is not muscular, more a slender build. By his stance, you could tell, feel just how powerful he was. This isn’t a man to anger. Yet there is something off about him. He could snap your neck in the blink of an eye but wince as he did so.

Meeting his gaze, I feel no danger to me. Perhaps I will test those limits. I watch his eyes go from coal black to a bright crimson and then back again. My heartbeat thunderously in my ears, my blood the same. The bottle falls free of my grip, crashing into the legs of the trunk. Some pieces pierce the tops of my feet. I do not wince. I do nothing but stare at him. He is a nightmare, a beautiful nightmare. Created to draw you in and destroy you, I realize. I’m intoxicated enough to dare myself to move my eyes down his slender fit body. 

He chuckles. The sound of it alone causes my cheeks to flush and my body to run hot, “My apologies,” with an audible snap of his fingers; the mysterious man before me is sharply dressed. 

The rebel curl nowhere to be seen, blending seamlessly with the rest of his hair. Black on black suit perfectly tailored to fit him the way gloves fit your hands. Gripping the knot on his tie, I watched him effortlessly pull it flush to his neck. Just below his adam’s apple as it bobs when he swallows. His gaze never strays from my own.

“Jude. My dearest Jude. I have been waiting for you to call upon me for some time.” He steps towards me into the clearing. Adjusting his cuffs as he does so.

Call? I run through my slowly sobering mind. Who have I called? I don’t know anyone who likes this. Enchanting and otherworldly.

Then it hits me.

Oh. _Fuck_. It appears I did, in fact, summon a demon. Now my life is about to become far more interesting.


End file.
